


The Unexpected Seamstress

by irismoon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-10 08:13:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2017578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irismoon/pseuds/irismoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandor has an unexpected visitor to his new room in the White Sword Tower to measure him for his new Kingsguard clothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sandor

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Comment-Fic-Meme on Livejournal. The prompt I picked was. 
> 
> Having incurred Joffrey's wrath yet again, Sansa is forced as a punishment to sew formal clothing for Sandor's promotion to the KG (or some other reason). Measurements and time alone together ensue. by Starbird1
> 
>  
> 
> It all belongs to GRRM, i am just having fun with the characters.
> 
> Spoilers thru Season 1 and Book 1.
> 
> Some Naughtiness at the end, and it is one of my first attempts at writing stuff like that.

Sandor sat alone in his new room in the White Sword Tower. It was a much larger room than his older one, but was bare apart from the small trunk which held his meager possessions. The only furniture was a large bed, and the small table and chairs. His shiny new Kingsguard armor sat in the corner. Sandor sneered at it and took a swig from a wineskin. He still could not believe he had agreed to this appointment. On one hand, this was his boyhood dream come true, but on the other, he was simply becoming more of the exact thing he despised most in the world. The war inside his head made him angry, so he took another drink. 

Lying spread out on the bed was his new white cloak. Joffrey had ordered new clothing to be made for him, but so far the white cloak was the only item he had received. He stared at the cloak, the symbol of purity and goodness. He was tempted to dump the skin of Dornish red on top of it and watch the wine stains grow. The idea that he would ever live up to the some of the legendary knights that had come before him was ridiculous. Men like Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Gerold Hightower, and Barristan the Bold, were being replaced by cowardly cunts like Ser Meryn fucking Trant and that toad Ser Boros Blount. And now on this day, he was becoming the first Non-Ser to accept the title. 

He was interrupted from his thoughts by a soft knock at his door. Confused on who would be visiting him, he jumped to his feet and stumbled drunkenly to the door. Throwing it open with a growl, he was stunned to see the Lady Sansa standing there. The Little Birds eyes were red from crying, and he could see the beginnings of a bruise on her cheek. She held a small basket in her hands. 

"Pardons My Lord for interrupting your rest." she mumbled. "The King has sent me here to begin work on your new Kingsguard clothing." 

He stood aside and let her enter. He stumbled back toward the table and took another drink of his wineskin. "Why in the Seven Hells would Joffrey send you? Is there a shortage of seamstresses in the kingdom suddenly?" He snarled at her. 

"The King is teaching me a valuable lesson." She said softly, setting her basket down and pulling a few items out and setting them on the table. 

He reached over and took her chin, turning her face toward him. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, and for the first time she did not seem to flinch away from his gaze. He took his finger and lightly traced the swelling on her cheek. "Was this part of the lesson as well girl?" 

She pulled away from his touch and ducked her head in embarrassment. "The king is reminding me that as the daughter of a traitor I would no longer be a Lady but a simple peasant if not for him and his kindness. He desired me to practice my trade skills in order to be prepared for when the day comes that I too am found to be nothing more than a traitor myself." 

Sandor stood there in disbelief. He knew for a fact that when Joffrey grew tired of the girl he would never set her free to live as a peasant. He would torture this poor child until there was nothing left to do but kill her. He growled under his breath, angry that the boy king would chose to use him as part of this girls punishment. She had pulled out a measuring tape and was reaching for his arm. He reached over and grabbed her hand, stopping her. 

"I do not need you to sew my clothing. I can hire some wench from town." he said. 

"It was the Kings order for me to do this myself. He would get angry if he learned otherwise." She motioned for him to stand straight and again reached for his arm and began to measure. 

"I can assure that he would not know. Certainly there is better things you could be doing with your time girl." he growled. 

She smiled shyly at him. "Honestly I do not mind." she whispered. "I welcome the chance to have a project to work on. I enjoy sewing. I have made clothing before, although nothing as elaborate as this. I only hope that I can complete the work to your satisfaction my Lord." 

He stood and stared at her for a few moments. Finally seeing nothing but sincerity in her eyes, he nodded and she began to finish her measurement of his arm. He stood there trying hard to not think about how her fingers felt against his skin, as she softly brushed aside his hair and stood against him on her tiptoes to hold the measuring tape against his shoulder. Her fingers smoothed the tape against his arm. She took out a small pad of paper and a quill and jotted down a few numbers, then returned to his arm, wrapping the tape around his bicep. It seemed as if she was feeling his muscles, so he tightened his arm a bit. He thought perhaps he saw a hint of a smile on her face. 

Next she measured his neck, She stood on her toes to reach him, and she had to press herself against him to read the numbers. He could feel her breath on his neck and he almost groaned as he felt his body react to her closeness. It had been too long since he had been with a woman and he was drunk. He longed to reach out and touch her fiery hair. Leaning forward a bit he inhaled her scent from the top of her head. She smelled sweet, like flowers and those sweet lemon cakes that he knew she loved. 

Her hands slid down his sides and she wrapped the tape around his chest. His tunic was loosely tied at the top and he saw her glance at the dark hair from his chest that was exposed there. She seemed to be blushing, and pulled quickly away to make more notes on her paper. 

Sandor took another drink of the wineskin, as she returned to his side and crouching down she wrapped the tape around his waist. He glanced down at her and realized he could see straight down the top of her gown. Her chest was straining against the fabric, and he could see her cleavage and the creamy white skin of the top of her breasts. With a quick yank he could have her breasts spilling out of her gown into his hands. He flexed his fingers and made a fist at his side to attempt to control the urge to act on his desires. 

Still crouching at his side she measured his hips next. He could not take his eyes away from the sight of her almost exposed breasts. The way the gown clung to her chest, it seemed as if she would burst forward from the silk with each breath she took. It occurred to him that the girl was in greater need of new clothing than he was. He willed himself to look away but before he could she glanced up at him. He knew he should feel ashamed for leering at her, but surely the girl was no stranger to men looking at her. She was perhaps one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen. She rose from her knees quickly and hurried back to her paper. She seemed to linger longer this time looking over her notes for several minutes before she finally turned back to face him. 

"I just have one more measurement to take My Lord." she spoke softly, coming to stand close to him again. She knelt before him once more taking the tape and pressing it against the inside of his leg, her fingers running up dangerously close to where his cock lay. If the girl noticed his hardness she did not let on, simply ran her fingers back down his leg. His thoughts were wild at the things he wished he could do to her while she was on her knees in front of him. She quickly made several measurements of his leg then standing again and writing the final numbers down on the paper she was finished. 

Silently she returned her items to her sewing basket and turned to face him once more. "I will try and have your new clothing finished as soon as possible. I will bring them by soon and you can try them and let me know if you require any alterations." she said softly. 

"Take your time girl. I am in no rush, my current clothes suit me fine." he growled. She nodded then left the room. He latched the door behind her, and leaning against it with one arm, he took a few deep breaths trying to get the visions of her out of his mind. He reached down and unlaced his breeches and removed his throbbing cock giving it a firm stroke, remembering the way her innocent eyes had looked up at him while she was on her knees in front of him. 

Within a few moments he was stroking himself quickly, imagining her knelt before him, his cock in her mouth. He pictured her sweet pink lips as they caressed his cock, her tongue running down the length of him. He would bury his hand in the fire of her hair and caress the silky strands as she sucked on him, her beautiful blue eyes gazing up at him. 

With a growl of her name he peaked, spilling his seed all over his hand. Just at that moment there was another soft knock at the door. Quickly he grabbed something off his bed and wiped his hand off, then he tucked himself back into his breeches. Throwing open the door, he saw her standing there once more, her face flushed. 

"Pardons, I believe I must have dropped my paper with your measurements." she whispered and glancing around him she pointed to the floor. He turned and saw it laying there. He reached down and picked it up and handed it to her. She smiled at him again shyly as she thanked him still blushing then left once more. 

Turning back into the room he noticed his new white cloak was laying in a heap upon the bed. With a laugh he realized that must have been what he had grabbed to clean himself off with. He had known it would not be long before he soiled the purity of that cloth. Taking a deep breath it seemed he could still smell the sweet scent of the girl in his room. He grabbed his wineskin and drinking the remaining bit of the Dornish red he smiled as he remembered her promise to return with his new clothes, and he began thinking that perhaps this Kingsguard appointment would not be so bad after all.


	2. Sansa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By popular demand, i am adding to this story. Here is Sansas POV of the previous chapter. I am trying to keep this story as close to Canon as possible, and i have no idea where to take it from here with out it getting into AU so i do not know if i will continue on, but you never know, plot bunnies pop up all the time :)

Sansa clutched her sewing basket in her hands tightly as Ser Meryn Trant led her forcefully across the grounds of the Red Keep. His grip on her arm hurt, his fingers digging painfully into her flesh, but the pain there was less than the throb in her cheek from where he had struck her a few minutes earlier. He opened the heavy doors at the entrance to the White Sword Tower and pushed her inside. Ser Boros Blount was sitting just inside the doorway, polishing his sword. After the two Kingsguard members exchanged a few words about her situation and had a hearty laugh at her expense, she was given directions to Sandor Cleganes new room on the second floor. She was relieved when neither seemed intent on escorting her any farther. 

She walked up the stairs slowly, she was nervous to be alone with The Hound, but in all honesty, his company was a welcome change from Meryn and Boros who never failed to mock her or strike out at her. The two of them seem to get pleasure from causing her pain. The Hound, while cruel with his words, was oddly gentle with her, and had never hit her. 

That morning she had been summoned to a meeting with the Queen Regent and Joffrey. They asked her opinion of remaining betrothed to The King. She answered honestly, that she wished to serve the realm, and was loyal to her King, but Cersei had mocked her calling her a liar and a traitor. Joffrey had threatened to cast her out into the streets, making her live as a peasant. Then with a laugh he had ordered her to practice her seamstress skills by crafting the Hounds new Kingsguard garments. Ser Meryn had escorted her to gather her sewing supplies and when she took too long gathering her materials, he had struck her hard across the face with his mailed fist. She had cried the whole walk to the tower until he had threatened to strike her again if she did not stop. 

She arrived at the end of the hallway of the second floor. The door was closed, so taking a deep breath, she knocked gently. After a moment the door swung open, and there was The Hound, towering before her, growling. She nervously spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Pardons My Lord for interrupting your rest. The King has sent me here to begin work on your new Kingsguard clothing." He stared down at her for a moment, then stepped aside to let her in. 

She entered and looked around the room. It was mostly empty except for a large bed on which his brand new white cloak lay, and a small table and chairs. The Hound stumbled drunkenly over to the table and picked up a wineskin drinking deeply. "Why in the Seven Hells would Joffrey send you? Is there a shortage of seamstresses in the kingdom suddenly?" He snarled as her turned to face her. 

She gathered her courage and walked toward him, setting her basket down on the table and beginning to remove some items, a measuring tape, feather quill and a small pad of paper. "The King is teaching me a valuable lesson." He surprised her then by reaching out and grabbing her chin, forcing her to look up at him. She stared into his dark eyes, no longer afraid to look him in the eye. 

He took his finger and lightly traced her swollen cheek. "Was this part of the lesson as well girl?" he growled angrily. She pulled away and ducked her head, wanting nothing more than to hide her injury from him. 

"The king is reminding me that as the daughter of a traitor I would no longer be a Lady but a simple peasant if not for him and his kindness. He desired me to practice my trade skills in order to be prepared for when the day comes that I too am found to be nothing more than a traitor myself." She sighed knowing that the King would never let her be free, even to live as a peasant. Traitor she may be, and her family disgraced, but she was still a highborn and was too valuable a hostage as long as his uncle was held captive by Robb. 

She picked up her measuring tape and began to lay it against his arm, but he threw her hands away with a growl. "I do not need you to sew my clothing. I can hire some wench from town." 

"It was the Kings order for me to do this myself. He would get angry if he learned otherwise." She motioned for him to stand straight and again reached for his arm and began to measure. 

"I can assure that he would not know. Certainly there is better things you could be doing with your time girl." 

She looked up at him and smiled. She knew the Hound valued honesty. Perhaps in a whisper, alone here with him she could safely speak a few truths. "Honestly I do not mind." she whispered. "I welcome the chance to have a project to work on. I enjoy sewing. I have made clothing before, although nothing as elaborate as this. I only hope that I can complete the work to your satisfaction my Lord." He looked down at her seriously for a few moments, then nodded and relaxed a bit so she could begin her measurements. 

He was so tall, she had to stand on her tiptoes to reach the top of his shoulder, brushing his hair away so she could lay the tape flat. She smoothed it out down his arm to get her reading. She wrote the numbers down on her paper then came back over and wrapped the tape around his arm. His arm was nicely muscled, she imagined no one was stronger than him as she ran her fingers over his bicep. She felt his muscles flex a bit under her touch bringing a smile to her face. 

Next she needed to measure his neck. She knew this would be a challenge due to his height. She stood as tall as she could up on her toes but lost her balance a bit and found herself leaning against him. Stretching a bit more so she could read the numbers, she swore the Hound leaned forward and sniffed her hair. She pulled away a bit, then brought the tape down to wrap around his chest. His tunic was unlaced a bit at the top and a tuft of dark hair peeked through. She wondered if he was hairy like that everywhere, then blushed as she was suddenly ashamed that she would have such an improper thought. She hurried back over to the table and wrote down the next set of numbers. 

She watched as Sandor took another drink from his wineskin as she came back to stand next to him. She could smell the wine on him, but he also smelled faintly of sweat and horses. It reminded her of Jory and Harwin and other men that had served her father. It reminded her of home and made her feel safe. She crouched down and wrapped the tape around his waist and then his hips. Her dress felt tighter as she knelt in this position and she took a few deep breaths trying to deal with the constricting fabric. Feeling his eyes on her she looked up and saw him leering down at her. 

She stood quickly and hurried back to the table. She felt so ashamed, she knew how obscene her gowns made her bust look. Most likely the Hound was thinking poorly of her right now, that she must look like a harlot and not a proper Lady. She had let out one of her heavy woolen gowns from Winterfell that covered her better but Joffrey grew angry saying he did not intend on her attending court wearing those old rags. She was afraid to attempt to alter the delicate silk gowns the Queen had gifted her upon her arrival to Kings Landing. If she would damage the fabric Joffrey would surely notice and she would be punished severely. 

Finally she took a deep breath and turned back to face him. "I just have one more measurement to take My Lord." she said coming back over to stand beside him. She knelt before him again and placed her measuring tape against his leg. Suddenly she realized she was eye level with his manhood. It was hard and straining against the fabric of his breeches, just an inch or so away from where her fingers lay holding the tape. She felt her fingers twitch and wondered what it would feel like if she reached over and touched it. Scandalized she quickly returned to her task and finished the last few measurements of his leg. Her thoughts were running wild, did this mean that the Hound desired her, the way a man desires a woman? She was unable to wrap her head around this newly acquired knowledge. 

Silently she stood and walking over to the table she wrote the last few numbers down then tore the paper off the top of the pad. She returned her quill and measuring tape to the basket, as she tried to collect her thoughts. Finally turning to face him she softly spoke. "I will try and have your new clothing finished as soon as possible. I will bring them by soon and you can try them and let me know if you require any alterations." 

"Take your time girl. I am in no rush, my current clothes suit me fine." he growled at her. She nodded to him then hurried out of the room. 

When she reached the hallway and the door was shut behind her, she took a few moments to calm herself. What would her Septa think, if she knew that she was thinking these impure thoughts about a man, and The Hound at that. The hallway suddenly seemed unbearably hot and she reached up to fan herself, but lost her grip on the sewing basket. It went tumbling from her fingers, its contents spilling across the floor. She hurried to pick everything up, pins, needles, thread, measuring tape, quill. When she picked up the pad of paper she noticed that her notes were missing. Looking quickly around the hallway and not locating them she began to realize that she must have dropped it before she left the Hounds room. 

Nervously she approached the door. She lifted her hand to knock once more but hesitated, afraid he would be angry with her for disturbing him once again. Suddenly from inside the room she heard the Hound moan and growl her name and in her surprise she knocked quickly. When he did not open the door she became confused. He had said her name, surely the reason was that he had known that she was standing on the other side about to knock. She was about to knock a second time when the door swung open. The Hound stood there looking at her, he was breathing heavily and his face was flushed. 

"Pardons, I believe I must have dropped my paper with your measurements." she whispered, and looking around him she saw the paper lying on the floor. She pointed to it. He hurried to pick it up and handed it to her. His large fingers brushed hers as she took the paper from him and she blushed again as she remembered other large parts of his body. Thanking him she quickly hurried out of the room. 

As she stepped outside the White Sword Tower, she took a few deep breaths of the fresh air, and hurried back toward her rooms, eager to begin her work. She smiled, and barely held in a laugh at the thought of what Joffrey would say if he knew how much she was enjoying this punishment so far.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok i had another idea to continue on with this a bit more. I am most likely stopping here, but I did have a blast writing this. I based the dresses on the ones from the show. I always kinda hated the pink gown Sansa wears at Joffreys Nameday but her blue winterfell gown and the purple one she wears in later seasons are beautiful. 
> 
> This chapter switches POV several times, So i hope it is not too confusing. Thanks everyone for reading and commenting and encouraging me to continue on.

Sansa hurried toward the White Sword Tower, her arms full of the newly crafted clothing for the Hound. Ser Meryn who walked beside her, made no effort to help, just laughed as he watched her struggling to carry it all. She stumbled on a loose cobblestone and fumbled to catch a pair of breeches before the new white fabric brushed the dirty ground. Ser Meryn roared with laughter and steered her into the front doors of the tower. 

This time she already knew her way to The Hounds rooms, and thankfully like her last visit here, Ser Meryn did not attempt to escort her any farther. She stopped for a moment and shifted the bundle of clothing in her arms again and continued up the stairs to the second floor and down the hall. When she reached the door that led to the Hounds rooms, she was met with a problem. How was she going to be able to knock with her hands full. She leaned against the door and tried to knock with the side of her hand while still holding the bundle. The door suddenly swung open and she almost lost her balance. A strong hand took hold of her arm catching her as she stumbled and looking up she saw the Hound looking down at her with a smirk on his face. 

"You again?" he questioned looking at the bundle in her arms. "None of your maids were available to help you carry all this?" 

"The King did not allow anyone to help me in any way." she mumbled as she straightened up and walked into the room. She reached the bed and thankfully was able to finally set her bundle down. She went to work laying the clothing out on the bed. She pulled a small garment brush out of her pocket and began to brush away a few bits of lint that clung to one of the new tunics, and smoothing out wrinkles with her hands. 

She glanced up as the Hound walked past her to pour himself a drink from a wineskin. He drank it down in one quick swallow and poured another, looking at her the whole time. His gaze made her nervous, so taking a quick deep breath, she held up one of the new tunics she had crafted. She walked toward him and held it up to his chest, judging the fit. "Does the size look correct?" she asked. 

He barked out a laugh. "How am I supposed to tell that from you holding it?" Before she knew what was happening, he pulled his old tunic over his head, tossing it aside and grabbed the new one from her hands. She gasped in shock and turned away quickly, but not before she had seen his naked chest. He was in fact covered in a dark hair, like she had wondered last time and she had seen the many scars that criss-crossed his skin. 

His laughter continued at her embarrassment. It seemed odd to hear him laugh so heartily. He was usually so angry, growling and barking like his namesake. It brought a small smile to her face. After a moment she heard him grunt impatiently. "Well girl?" 

She peeked back around and saw him standing there now wearing the new tunic, holding his arms out at his sides. She was relieved to see that it hung perfectly on his frame. She smiled and walked forward, tugging the sleeve here, and adjusting the collar there. She felt really proud of her work and smiled up at him happily. 

"It is a good fit, You did well Little Bird." he said. She hurried back to the bed and pulled out the other tunics. 

"I made several different ones" she explained holding them up for him to see. Then she picked up a pair of pants. "Here are the breeches." 

He took them from her laughing. "Better turn that pretty head of yours." She saw that he was already reaching for the laces at the front of his pants, and with a small shriek she turned quickly around. Her cheeks felt hot and she was sure she was blushing more than she had ever before in her life. She could not believe she was alone in the Hounds bedroom, and he was undressing just a few feet away from her. 

After a moment she heard what could only be described as a chuckle. "I believe there is a problem Little Bird." she spun around to face him. Her hands flew up to her mouth as she gasped in horror at what she saw. 

The pants she had crafted were several inches too short. She could see the skin of his ankles above his stocking covered feet. 

"Oh no" she cried out and hurried to his side, kneeling down and looking at the hem of the pants. Even if she undid it, there would not be enough fabric to cover her mistake. "I must have made an error in my measurements." she moaned. She would have to start over most likely, and once Joffrey found out he would be angry with her. 

She looked up to see the Hound staring down at her, and she was reminded of the last time she was in this position, and the way he had leered at her. She nervously tugged at her gown trying to pull it up to cover her better. The Hound looked away with a scowl. 

"Don't worry your pretty little head over it girl. Even if the fit was perfect, I have no intention of prancing around in these white pants. My old breeches suit me much better." he growled as he picked his old pants up and before she had a chance to turn around, he had pulled the new pants down and kicked them away. She knew she should turn her face away. This was most improper. The thought of what her mother would say if she knew she was alone in a bedroom with a man standing before her in only his small clothes was enough to make her tremble. His legs were muscled and strong, hairy and scarred like the rest of him. 

He saw that she was still watching and he stepped slowly into his old pants and pulled them up, never taking his gaze from her. He didn't bother to lace them and walked back to the table and poured himself another drink. After a moment he reached for a second cup and poured another drink. He held out the cup for her. She walked forward and took it from him. She took a small sip, wincing when it was much stronger than she expected. 

******** 

Sandor watched as she daintily sipped at the cup of wine he had poured her. Her face was still flushed but it only made her prettier. He walked toward the bed and dug through the pile of clothing she had laid there. There were several of the tunics like she had said, each one similar to the one he had tried on. He set several pairs of breeches aside, trying to not chuckle as he shook his head thinking of her failed attempt at making his pants. Perhaps she would need to retake his measurements again. He cursed himself silently as his mind conjured up indecent images of her back on her knees before him. 

A piece of cloth fluttered down from one of the tunics distracting him from his thoughts and reaching down he picked it up. "What is this?" He questioned her looking down at the small square of cloth in his hands. 

If it was possible she blushed even more. "It is just a little something I made for you." she mumbled. He traced the fabric with his finger. It was expertly embroidered. The white cloth was trimmed in black and gold stitching and in the center was the three black dogs of House Clegane. "Do you remember when you gave me your handkerchief? I tried to get the blood stains out so I could return it to you, but I am afraid it was ruined. I had some extra fabric when I was done with your new clothing, so I just thought I would make you a new one to replace it." 

He stared up at her. "You expect me to wipe my dirty sweaty brow with this? Blow my snot into it?" She looked at him, clearly shocked at his crude words. "That is what a handkerchief is for girl. This is too nice for a dog like me." He growled.

She ducked her head embarrassed. "I am sorry, it was a foolish idea." she reached for the fabric, as if she meant to take it from him, but he quickly snatched it away from her hands. 

"I didn't say I didn't want it." he mumbled, folding the fabric gently and placing it in his pocket. She looked up at him with a shy smile on her face, but then to his great annoyance he saw her tugging at her gown again, and squirming in the uncomfortable fabric. It was painful to see the girl prancing around in that foolish dress, it seemed she could barely breath due to how tight it was. Suddenly he had an idea. 

He walked to stand close to her. He reached down and stroked her hair for a moment. She stared up at him in awe. "Little Bird, do you trust me?" he whispered. 

She was silent for a moment before she nodded. "Yes, I trust you." she said. 

He nodded at her, then stepped down on her heavy skirts holding it down on the floor tightly, and reaching down he grabbed the fabric. With a quick yank, he ripped the fabric up the side, the fancy silk shredding apart with a loud tear. She jumped and gave a little yelp. "My lord what are you doing." she said pulling away and grabbing up the pieces of her ruined skirt. 

He stomped toward the door and threw it open. Leaning his head out into the hallway he bellowed loudly. "Seven Hells girl, you almost tripped me with those damn skirts of yours. Get out of here, before I throw you out!" Then turning back to her he leaned down close to her face. Her lip was trembling and he could see tears welling up in her eyes. 

"Fly away little bird." he whispered giving her a small push toward the door. She cast him one last look, her eyes full of hurt and confusion before she fled the room. 

******* 

Sansa sat alone in her rooms. She was wearing her heavy blue wool gown from Winterfell. It made her feel safe and warm, reminding her of home, but she could not take her eyes off the delicate silk gown that she had laid out on her bed. The rip in her skirts was at least two feet long, and the cloth was torn and jagged, there was no way she could repair it without it being very visible. 

There was a knock at her door. She hurried to answer it and to her complete surprise, there before her stood Cersei. She quickly bowed to the queen, before stepping aside and letting her enter. Cersei smiled down at her, looking smug as always. 

"Hello Little Dove. I see that you are wearing one of your old Winterfell dresses. Where is the pink silk one that Joffrey had made for you?" 

She stumbled over her words, unsure how to answer the Queen. "There was an accident and I am afraid that it was not fit for me to wear it today. " she said nervously. 

"The Hound came to see me this morning." The queen stated, interrupting her. "He said that he stepped on your skirts and ruined your dress. Is this true?" Sansa felt her mouth drop open in shock. Cersei looked away from her and rolled her eyes. Then she noticed the damaged dress on the bed. "Is this the gown here?" she asked as she walked over and picked up the dress, looking at it, examining the tear. "Such a pity, it was a costly gown. This is ruined of course, this fabric can not be mended." She tossed it back down on the bed, and marched to the door. "The dressmaker will be here shortly." she said as she reached for the handle. 

"The dressmaker?" Sansa questioned her. 

Cersei turned and smiled at her coyly. "Yes it seems The Hound feared Joff would be most angry at him ruining your pretty gown. He commissioned the royal dressmaker to make you a replacement one at his own expense. Isn't that curious?" She said staring at Sansa. 

"I was most upset when my gown was ruined. It was a gift from my beloved king and everyone knew how much I cherished it." she said quietly. 

"Spare me your chatter girl." Cersei said annoyed as she stalked from the room without giving her a second look. 

An hour later she found herself draped in the most gorgeous plum colored silk fabric she had ever seen. It was richly embroidered and much nicer than the ruined pink gown laying in the corner. As the dressmaker made her alterations, Sansa looked at herself in the mirror. She saw that she was smiling, and realized this was perhaps the first time she had felt a moment of true happiness in months. 

 

****** 

Sandor saw the girl walking down the hall toward him. She was surrounded by a group of other ladies and was most likely on her way to court. She was dressed in a much nicer gown, and it fully covered her blossoming curves. The color was darker and suited her complexion much better than the pink had. 

She gave him a shy smile and mouthed the words 'Thank you" as they passed. He simply nodded in response and continued on his way back to the white sword tower, his hand reaching into his pocket to finger the small embroidered handkerchief that lay inside.


End file.
